The Closest Thing to a Baby

is our new English Springer Spaniel puppy.

He's not so new to us anymore since he has been in the family since just after Labor Day. But I'd like to officially introduce him here. So, without further ado, AUGUSTUS IGNATIUS Puppus Pantilus.

We mostly refer to him as just Mr. Auggie Pants.

Augustus was the ruler who ushered in the Pax Romana, or the Roman Peace and he was declared a god by the Roman senate.

We've watched closely for any deity-like behavior, but so far Auggie's enjoyment of licking his personal parts has assured us that we are dealing with a mere mortal dog.

Ariam and Talay were not on board with the puppy plan. J was only marginally on board. I'd have to admit to leading this charge into puppy parenthood. But now that August has settled in, we have found him to be a very good addition.

He is five months old now and surprisingly calm, cheery, and relaxed. Talay does not deign to engage his playful antics in her spaces like the living room, hallway, kitchen, dining room, car, etc. But she has been playing nicely with him in the yard and in the newly carpeted basement family room. I don't think she's ever going to cuddle the way he would like to, but she is very obviously happy to have a canine companion again.

August and Ariam have developed a love hate relationship. He loves her and she hates him. Except for when she loves him. (She's fickle.)

Their relationship got off to a poor start when, on his first week home, she raced through the house bare bummed and screaming. Well, that little brown bum racing through the living room looked...juicy? I guess. And August's 3 month old self could not resist leaping up and nibbling it.

Seriously though they are doing pretty well now. It's been a bonding issue for Ariam and Talay (bonding over shared annoyance) but overall Ariam is a cool customer with the puppy and demonstrates a lot of calm assertive behavior ala Ces.ar M.ilan and the dog whi.sperer.

I adore this puppy. He has been a great gift. It's always very hard to tell what you'll get with a puppy but we knew that it would be hard to go wrong with another well bred English Springer Spaniel. They tend towards loyal, happy, kid-friendly, companions.

Sometimes, when August is lounging on his back in the bed (only when J isn't home, shhhh) I look at him and see Cassidy. There's definitely a bit of her in him and I could not have asked for more than that.

~A

Loss

To Lose. It is a verb when you are talking about it abstractly. "Did you hear that so and so lost their (dog, house, child, parent)?"
Loss. A powerful noun when it refers to you and your own life. "I have experienced a loss."


Cassidy, our 13 year old English Springer Spaniel, passed away on June 4th. She was born on May 15, 1998. J and I bought her, on a humid summer evening, from a breeder in MN in July 1998 when she was 10 weeks old. We've had 3 dogs in our married life, Cassidy was the only one who has been like a child to us. Faithful is the best word to describe her. She always trusted us, always knew that we were her people. She was never happier than when we were all together - her pack - going anywhere, but together.




Summer 1998

 There was a time, right after we got married in 1999 and moved to a small city in NY, that J was in graduate school and I was extremely unemployed. He was in an art program and in the studio day and night. I was experience the life altering shatter of the Christian college bubble. You know, where you suddenly realize that the world is full of awful people (like the drug dealer/pimp who had loud s.ex in the apartment above us) and that your bachelor's degree in international relations means less than nothing in a small city in upstate New York.

Cassidy and I would walk to the huge park near our house and sit. Just sit on a hill near the confluence of the Genessee and Hudson rivers. I'd cry. She'd press against my side and let me keep an arm around her. Then suddenly she'd take off, chasing squirrels and rolling in grass and throwing her full body into the river for a stick. She'd return full of life and joy and look me in the eye to say "hey! wake up! It is SO great here in this sleepy city. And isn't it SO great that we can just hang out all day together?!" :)




Summer 1998 - Trout Lake Camp, MN


Passed away seems too easy of a description. We made the decision to put Cassidy to sleep on June 4th. If you've been reading here you know that she was diagnosed with a large lung tumor in January. The prognosis was 4-8 weeks and she gave us almost five months. In the end it seemed pretty clear that she was holding on the best she could because she's not one to give up on us. So we had to make the decision for her.

I came home from Ethiopia on the 2nd. The next day Cassidy followed me around the house with the "eyes." I know these particularly "eyes" because she used to give them to me while she was suffering from undiagnosed Addison's disease in 2002. They are the eyes that say "I'm not feeling good. Can you fix it?"

She was struggling for breath, coughing a lot, and she couldn't just lay down and get comfortable. Her job here with us was done and there were no more pills that could help. So on Saturday we took her in and helped her say goodbye.

It's a terrible thing, taking a life. I've never done it before, not even humanely. I have selfishly tried to rescue little dying birds, puppies, squirrels, and even a raccoon we hit with the car one time. If it were up to me I'd always choose life, even over humane death, and I'd see every person and animal live forever.

But life has a really crappy way of calling you out and ending sometimes before everyone feels ready to say goodbye.

We gave Cassidy a double stack cheeseburger. And a peanut butter bone. And the vet staff were incredible and loving and made it as easy as possible. We told little stories about her while they were prepping. Cassidy was so tired. I told her it was ok to let go and she just layed down and it was over. But not over for me. I see her in my mind's eye every day. Those last minutes of saying goodbye. The way her fur was so soft still. Her long ears that I've cried many tears into over the years. It is baffling how life can be there one second and the body there but the life gone, the next. We learn about this concept, and maybe I am the last 34 year old on earth who hasn't actually experienced it in either animal or human form, but it is....well... baffling. Mysterious.

So it has been a miserable week and a half. I thought once it was done and the tears were cried that day that it would all be over and life would move on. But every day last week there were more tears. There are still tears, they just don't always flow now.

We got her ashes back last Wednesday. And again, I marvel at how that is all our lives boil down to. Because whether we are human or doggie, life ends and in the end our dust can fit in a little box.

Never have I been more glad to know that there is life after death. Never have I found more comfort in the knowledge that God promises us a better place, where ALL things will be made new. Beloved dogs too. Life on earth is so fleeting. 13 years went by in the blink of an eye. Surely our human lives will be just a speck as well. I imagine that by the time I am very old, and my time is up, I will have said many, even harder, goodbyes and be even more comforted by the thought of heaven.

We sang a song in church on Sunday:

Soon and very soon, we are going to see the King
Soon and very soon, we are going to see the King
Soon and very soon, we are going to see the King
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, we are going to see the King

No more crying there, we are going to see the King
No more crying there, we are going to see the King
No more crying there, we are going to see the King
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, we are going to see the King

No more dying there, we are going to see the King
No more dying there, we are going to see the King
No more dying there, we are going to see the King
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, we are going to see the King

It is an old gospel hymn with roots as a "Negro spiritual."
I can only imagine the losses of some of the people who have sung this song over the generations.

My loss, it is a first world loss. A priviliged loss. I don't forget that. But it is not any less painful for knowing that.

This past weekend we sold D.oris D.ay. Our scooter. I had this dream - that once we moved to Colorado we would travel everywhere by scooter. While some dreams are harder to bring true, this one wasn't so difficult - the scooter part. We bought DD within a couple of months of arriving here. We took her to the store, and for sunset rides around the lakes. She was sort of our last hurrah as a married couple without kids.

We sold DD last weekend. I cried both before and after. You know how once you start crying the tears manufacture much more easily? Yeah, that's been me since Cassidy's death. The tears are just there ready to spring out and fly all over the place - over a scooter, over a photo, over the thought of Ariam ever dying, over our under-celebrated 12th anniversary on Monday.

I think the couple that bought DD thought I was crazy. I may or may not have insisted that they call her DD and encouraged them to take her to watch the sunset at Sloan's Lake every night. I may have also (cringe) suggested that they buy the house for sale next door....

Here they are trying to appear understanding as I take a photo for this blog post and blubber about how my dog just died and I'm sad to say goodbye to the scooter too.

It would be nice to be able to pull it together in the coming weeks and enjoy some summer.

I think we need a puppy....

~A